So, Baby, Please Don't Tempt Me
by chriscolfers
Summary: Blaine is a wonderful Latin/ballroom dancer and Kurt excels at ballet. What happens when the two are invited to a prestigious event for the best of New York arts students? Dancer!Klaine.


**A/N: ...I started _another _fic. SOMEONE, PLEASE STOP ME.**

**Yay for dancer!Klaine though.**

* * *

**PROLOGUE.**

* * *

_To Blaine Anderson._

_Student of: The Julliard School._

_You have been invited to the prestigious 'Showcase of New York Fine Arts' Ball. Held for only the finest of the finest dancers that New York has to offer._

_27th of October, 2012._

_7:00-11:00pm._

* * *

_The finest of the finest?_ That was these schools for you. Always excelling to be the best at everything; even in their spelling and grammar.

Blaine folded the letter, after reading it for the sixteenth time, putting it in the pocket of his blazer.

He looked down at his watch, leaning against the door frame of his classroom, waiting for his friend to hurry up and get out of there. He wanted to get to the dorm to ring up his mother, tell her all about the invitation and how he was selected to go.

Because, damn, this was a pretty big deal.

How many people could say that they were invited to an event only for students that excelled in their area. In which case, it was dance.

Blaine had performed for as long as he could think of. Singing, dancing, acting; he was a triple threat. From reciting Shakespeare monologues with his older brother, Cooper, to singing to Disney, he knew that he had to make it big. Performing was his calling.

You could say that story could match perfectly with Rachel Berry's. She talked about how she was a star; singing before she could speak, and winning dance competitions from three months old.

Rachel skipped out of the classroom, linking her arm through Blaine's as they walked away. "Sorry about that. I was just finishing off the notes he wrote down." She apologized, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I want to learn as much as I can if I -we- want to gain our diplomas."

"You already know enough as it is, Rachel. I'm sure any more information would make your head explode." He teased, as she gave look of mocked horror, before giggling quietly. "So, this ball..."

Rachel made a squeal of delight, as she began to skip, dragging Blaine along with her. "Aren't you so excited? I know that I certainly am. For us to be one of the handful of students to represent this school, it's truly an honour."

"Did you just edit your Oscar speech to match this event?" Blaine asked, laughing as she nudged him with her elbow in protest. He was barely convinced, though. "I knew it!"

Rachel blushed, furiously shaking her head. "No way." She said, but she couldn't help the grin that her lips curled into. "Okay... maybe." She giggled with him, ignoring the looks that people gave them. One student from one of their dance classes made a cat-call, causing them both to laugh even harder.

Blaine looked over their shoulders, on instinct, wondering if anyone else was looking. "I need to hold a sign that says that I'm gay, don't I?" He whispered, once they both caught their breath again.

"They should get the hint from all the bow ties you wear-"

"Bow ties are a fashion statement, excuse you." Blaine joked, instinctively bringing a hand up to his bow tie, making sure that it sat just right, the way he liked it. "Says the girl who wore reindeer sweaters all through high school."

Rachel rolled her eyes, until they finally made it to the dorms. "Guess who was giving me looks again?" She asked, taking her arm away to get the keys out of his pocket. After unlocking the door, she ran for her bed, flopping onto it with exhaustion.

"Who?"

"_Jesse._" She announced, the sound muffled by her pillow. Rachel turned over, now on her side, facing Blaine.

He placed his backpack beside his bed, laying across it so they were both face to face. "St. James again?" Blaine asked, stifling a laugh. The situation between Rachel and Jesse?

You could cut through their sexual tension with a _spoon_.

Sure, Rachel made it look like they hated each other. But she was interested in him. _Very _interested.

Blaine had bought a '_Do Not Disturb_' sign as a joke, resulting in the small girl tackling him onto the bed, tickling his sides until he could no longer breathe. She told him that she threw it out; but whilst cleaning up on a Sunday morning, he saw it perched inside the top drawer of her bedside cabinet.

He smiled, trying not to act too suspicious. "That must be _so _frustrating." Blaine played along, getting an eager nod in response. He decided to test his theory again, putting his acting skills into motion. "Must be hard to see those brown eyes staring at you all the time.

Rachel scoffed, but had to add "they're green, actually." She widened her eyes, ducking her head into her pillow.

Blaine pointed, raising his eyebrows. "Ha!" He shouted, and Rachel threw a pillow at him. She couldn't be any more obvious. "If you want to perform on Broadway, you need to act better." He smirked at her shocked look, and she got her phone from the top of her cabinet, dialling a number. "...you're not calling the cops on me for that, are you?"

She gave a pondering look, as if she was debating whether to do so or not. But soon enough, she had a huge grin on her face. "Daddy! I have wonderful news for you. Go and fetch dad though, it's important to me."

Blaine fished his phone out of his pocket, as he remembered to call his mother. Rachel held a hand up to him, stopping him from calling anyone. She held a hand over the receiver, looking over at him. "Wait for me to finish, okay?"

He sighed, wondering if he'd ever be able to call his mother without Rachel beside him. Her intentions were good, but Blaine hadn't talked to her alone in months.

After a bunch of squeals, coming from both ends of the line, she hung up with a smile. She pulled out a notebook and a pen, writing in her feel-good journal. In neat writing, she scribbled down her happy comment for the day.

_I made my dads proud today._

She placed a gold star beside it, pressing her thumb against it so it stuck better. She smiled, thinking back to when Blaine had told her about his own journal, buying one for her too. She didn't go a day without thanking Blaine for it.

Once she finished, she climbed off her bed and onto Blaine's. She took his free hand, and nodded. "Ring her." She said, composing her face to look serious.

He scrolled through his phone to find the right contact, and held the phone to his ear, listening to the dial tone. After a few rings, a small voice picked up.

"_Blaine?_"

He sighed, frowning at how sad she sounded. "Hey, mom." Blaine greeted her, feeling Rachel's grip tighten on his hand. "I just wanted to tell you some good news."

There was the sound of items being put down, so she could give him her full attention. "_What's that?_"

He pulled out the letter from blazer, scanning over it again. "I got invited to a ball. Only... um, a few people from the school were invited." Blaine explained, hoping that his mother was smiling at that. "A-and, there's going to be all these students from other schools in New York. Isn't that great?"

The silence was starting to make him worry. "Mom?"

"_Yes?_"

He took a deep breath, relieved that she was still on the line. "Don't you want to say something...?" Blaine asked, waiting for a response.

"_I'm proud of you, Blaine._"

The sound made his heart warm, smiling at the sound of how genuine the words were. "Okay. Can I tell Dad too?"

Rachel stiffened beside him, trying to grab the phone from him, but Blaine persisted. He heard a sniffle, and he sighed. Not this excuse again. She kept saying the same thing, every time he called her.

"_Blaine, do you do this to torture me?_"

He scowled, as Rachel continued trying to grab the phone, crawling around him and all sorts. But, he pulled her back down, and she huffed. "Mom, I'm not saying anything wrong. I just want to talk to him, if that's too much to ask"

"_He's dead, Blaine. Y-you know this already._"

Blaine felt the familiar sensation of his heart breaking, but he refused to believe it. "Great. I tell you about something that means a lot to me, and that's not enough to get the lies to stop?" He snapped, letting go of Rachel's hand. "You have to stop telling me he's dead. I know he's still alive. I don't get why he's avoiding us-"

The calm voice had disappeared, and her voice raised. "_He's dead!_"

Rachel snatched the phone at the sound of Mrs. Anderson's voice raising, and she ran to the other side of the room. "Blaine, can you go get some biscotti from across the street?" She asked, and Blaine complied, walking out of the room as fast as he could.

It had been four months, or so, when she called him to tell the bad news that he was in a car accident. A truck ran through a red light, and Blaine's father was passing the lights at that moment.

Yet, Blaine was acting as if nothing had happened.

And Rachel, along with his mother, knew that it wasn't healthy for him to be like this.

"Mary, I'm sorry for what Blaine's doing." She apologized, leaning against the headboard. "He hasn't fully grasped it. I'm sure he'll feel better about it in time, _right?_"

* * *

_To Kurt Hummel._

_Student of: The Tisch School of Arts._

_You have been invited to the prestigious 'Showcase of New York Fine Arts' Ball. Held for only the finest of the finest dancers that New York has to offer._

_27th of October, 2012._

_7:00-11:00pm._

* * *

Kurt laid on his bed, face sinking into the pillow in attempts to contain his squeals. He'd been working so hard to get to this point, to be invited to such an important event. And he did it.

The phone call to his father and step-mother had been one with tears of joy, and an inspiring speech on how Kurt defied all the odds and succeeded; along with a lovely comment about how his mother would've been proud.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, as he spun around, grinning from ear to ear as Mercedes Jones joined him on the bed, a grin plastered on her face.

She settled onto the bed with a knowing smirk, looking down at him. "So, two amazing things have happened today." She said, and Kurt raised an eyebrow, sitting up so they were beside one another.

Kurt leaned into her, anxious to hear. "Do tell." He said, as she took a deep breath.

"First of all, we both got invited to this ball, which will be amazing." She laughed as Kurt held out a hand for her. They gave each other a high-five, proud of each other.

Kurt, being the amazing ballet dancer he was, and Mercedes, who was a powerful singer; it wasn't much of a surprise to the others.

But, to them, it meant the world.

She toyed with the sleeve of Kurt's sweater, looking as if her nerves were getting the best of her. This was a rare sight for Kurt to see, as Mercedes was the most confident person he knew. "Plus, you know Sam?"

"The guy from music with the bleached hair?" Kurt asked, as she gave a nod. "I thought you and Noah were in the midst of something more."

"He's not my type, I thought I told you that..." Mercedes frowned at the mention of her ex, but brushed her feelings aside. "Well, Sam asked me on a date to Gotham." She announced, as Kurt tackled her with a hug, feeling excited for his friend.

He pulled back after a few seconds with a confused look. "Gotham? Uh, isn't that where Batman lives?"

She slapped his arm, and launched into how Sam asked her out, including how he did an _impression_ of Batman to do so.

"He's really cute, though." She blushed, looking out the window. "Maybe, one day, you and Chandler can-"

"No." Kurt shuddered at the mention of his... _stalker_.

Yes, stalker seemed like the right word.

Kurt made the mistake of greeting Chandler at the local library. He was looking lonely, and Kurt knew what it was like to feel left out. So, after one small chat, Kurt had to go to dance practice and waved goodbye. He felt proud of himself that he made someone else smile today, especially someone who had nobody to talk to.

And then it happened every time Chandler saw him.

He'd stop him for some pointless conversation, and it was starting to get on Kurt's nerves. He'd even caused him to be late for class once, resulting in a very pissed off teacher.

Being late for class was unacceptable, according to the school. This meant that his teacher held some sort of grudge against Kurt for three weeks. Just because he was half an hour late. It wasn't his fault that Chandler wouldn't stop rambling about some stupid change at his favourite coffee shop.

It was pointless, and Kurt was starting to get quite fed up with it.

"You'll get together with him one day, right?" Mercedes asked, as Kurt groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Come on, we could all go the movies."

Kurt made a gagging noise, scrunching his face up. "No. End of conversation." He huffed, thinking of something else to talk about. "So, enough about Bruce Wayne and my stalker. What will you be wearing to the ball?"


End file.
